Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2018 16:47:05 +0200
From: Charley Reed
Subject: Reed 'em and Weep - next chapter (17 April 2008)
Thursday 17 April 2008
Things I can't take seriously: Mr Questions. I mean honestly, mate, fuck
off, would you?
Okay, so there is going to be some chronic excitement at home. You'll never
guess what I found in the outside bin when I was surreptitiously throwing
away some unrelated stuff of my own in the big bin outside under cover of
darkness? Well, I guess it was related, in a way, since... never
mind. Still, I found a Home Pregnancy Test box! A bit more digging and,
under a mound of not-exactly photogenic and largely rotting uneaten
cat-food, jackpot – a positive test, with two dark blue stripes. I'm
guessing my little Ms Goody Two-Shoes sister – not Miss, note; it's Ms
– Mandy is up the duff! A bit of a surprise, really, since as far as I
know she's not seeing anyone, but you hardly need to be in a relationship
to get yourself accidentally knocked up. So much for her massively
feminist/pseudo militant lesbianesque stance on the uselessness of men,
since I'm pretty sure she can't go to a sperm bank at almost 17. Of course
that latter assumption also raises the preposterous notion that she wants a
kid while still at high school, and if that's the case I'll eat my
hat. We're not stupid, my family, with a long history of being fairly
bright, and if Mandy is indeed preggers then it's a fuck-up in every sense
of that very useful, ubiquitous, and wholly appropriate phrase.
The trick now is keeping mum while trying to find out a bit more. I think
it might be time for some Facebook stalking. Unfortunately the ol' FB will
be overloaded this coming weekend, since it's her 17th birthday on Sunday
and if I know teenagers and Facebook... On that note, I supposed I'd better
go get her a gift. Fortunately I managed to save a bit from last month;
waiting tables being not always lucrative and my
not-quite-excessive-but-also-not-quite-not partying being a deadly
combination when you're not exactly swimming in money. I guess a Congrats!
You're Expecting! card instead of a birthday one will be more than a touch
off-side, although it will be fucking funny.
Thinking about this a bit, I should probably be more empathetic at this
point than I actually do feel; currently I'm more amused than anything else
and I'm not sure that's a rational response to something of this nature. I
mean, potentially I'm only a few months away from being an uncle; and more
than that, it appears that even my predictable, dull, religious and
uber-conservative younger sister has had more sex than I have. How about
you let me catch a break, Mr G_d, huh? Yeesh, this has got beyond
ridiculous. I'm this close --->